Medicated Dreams
by trumpee-Aiyana
Summary: Mello has mono and he's having weird dreams. Each dream takes him on adventures though crazy new worlds. Will Mello ever wake up? Will Matt stop listening to what Mello says in his sleep? Does any of this make sense! R&R if you would please.
1. The Matt in the Hat

**Author's Note: So, this is weird. I'm warning you right now, this is probably not going to make any sense. Like at all. **

**But Mello's got Mono. **

**If any of you have ever had mono (I have… ehh..) you know it's at least two weeks of minimal consciousness and a ton of medicine. **

**When I had it I had crazy dreams. Like off the wall, ridiculous, unbelievable dreams. My family said I talked in my sleep (which I do normally) and they got a pretty good idea what I was dreaming about because I wouldn't shut up. **

**So..this is Mello. Doing that. **

**This dream is based on Dr. Seuss books. Because that's logical. Also the format refuses to double space between stanzas...sorry about that. **

**Enjoy? **

* * *

'Twas half-past twinkle time, near the hour of two, when the Blonde Haired Brat began to 'achoo!'.

The Rogerbeast forced him to nap for a bit,

to rid him of fever and sneezes and ick.

But when the Brat awoke, he was surely surprised- the world had changed since he'd last closed his eyes!

Gone was his bed, the quilts and the sheets, instead replaced with grasses and bleats-

of the Gruntigrump Goat, that chewed tizong fruit

from the low hanging branches of the pixipan shoots.

"Where the fuck am I?" he asked, with a most profane mouth.

And he looked all around with a frown and a pout.

Then came his answer, in the form of a shout:

"Well an attitude like that won't figure it out!"

The Blonde Haired Brat jumped, and looked at the man

who came to swiftly, suddenly, before him stand.

"Matt?" asked the Brat

"Yes, my name is Matt!"

Exclaimed the man they called the Matt in the Hat.

"I know who you are, dumbass." Said the Brat with a huff.

The Matt in the Hat smiled. "Don't be so rough!

"You'll find out the reason you're here soon enough."

The Blonde Haired Brat frowned. "What's going on, Matt?"

"Nice to meet you, Mello, I'm the Matt in the Hat!"

"I'd gathered as much." The Brat grumbled at Matt.

"You wanna explain where the hell we're at?"

"Poor Mello, sick and alone."

Said the Matt in the Hat to the Blonde Haired Brat.

"Tossing in bed with a sweat and a moan.

But how many moans can a lone Mello groan,

before his redheaded roommate makes his babblings known?"

"So this is all in my head?" Asked the Brat with a look.

"Precisely!" Said Matt. "This world is a story book

that you're dreaming from all that medicine you took!"

"So how do I make it stop?" Asked the Brat. He was desperate now.

"You can't make it stop until you've learned how."

"How do I learn?" The Brat was becoming upset.

"Tell me where to find the reset."

The Matt in the Hat danced with glee.

"To figure that out, you must follow me!"

And he bounced to the left,

and bounced to the right,

bounced up a hill,

and bounced out of sight.

"Oh fuck this." Said the Brat, and took off up the hill.

"If he says to follow him, then I guess I will."

He followed the path laid into the grass

He walked and he walked all over the pass

He slipped on the Frozen River

and busted his ass.

Til finally he saw the Matt up ahead,

having a picnic of rye cake and bread.

"So you finally caught up!" Called the picnicking boy

and he spilled lemonade when he jumped up with joy

to run to greet the Blonde Haired Brat

that stomped toward the place he'd sat.

"Don't run off again!" He barked at the Matt in the Hat.

"How am I supposed to find you if you keep doing that?"

"But while I was gone, I figured it out!"

The Matt in the Hat told him with a shout.

"To leave this world of nonsense and cheer,

you must promise from now on to be nicer….

to Near!"

"…..The fuck?" The Brat asked with a brow raised over his eye.

"Be nice to that runt? I'd rather die."

"You should be nicer to Near for the rest of the year.

Nothing you say should ever bring tears!"

"He's a baby anyway for crying so much.

He'll break out into tears without even a touch."

"Would you be nicer to him if I gave you a pie?" Asked the Matt in the Hat.

"In what world would that even be relevant?" Replied a surly faced Brat.

"This pie is special.

This pie is great.

This pie can turn the course of fate.

This pie is thick.

This pie is pink.

This pie will make you stop and think.

This pie is yesterday.

This pie is tomorrow.

This pie is here for you to borrow."

"I don't care about the pie." Said the Blonde Haired Brat.

And he slapped the pie away from the Matt in the Hat.

"I don't like this, I don't want to be here.

And I sure as HELL won't be nice to Near."

"Would you be nice if I showed how to dance?"

"I wouldn't be nice if you put me in a trance."

"Would you be nice if I sang you a song?"

"I wouldn't even try to sing along."

"Would you be nice if I tied your shoe?"

"I won't be nice no matter what you do."

"I know a being that will teach you to be kind.

He'll make you smile, he'll open your mind.

All that we have to do now is find

The Tree of Kindness, so don't fall behind!"

Then the Matt in the Hat bounded away

again over the horizon of the now-dimming day.

The Brat jogged to catch up, then tried and tried,

To stay by the Matt in the Hat's side.

The Tree of Kindness lived in an orchard of trees

Home to chipmunkzees and buzzumblebees,

peek-a-burrows and busybroobles,

cancan-canoodles and elemenopoodles.

And the Matt in the Hat and the Blonde Haired Brat

Looked up in awe and the great tree, that,

with a flick of his wrists and an echoing "Scat!"

Sent hundreds of birds flying this way and that.

"The Tree of Kindness!" said the Matt with a smile

He ran to hug the Tree's roots for a while.

"This is my friend Mello, he's really unkind.

We were hoping that you could change his mind."

"I'm the Tree of Kindness!" Boomed the tree of a man.

"If I can't make him kind, nobody can."

From his place on the ground, the Brat could see

The face of the giant man with the body of a tree.

"Holy shit!" Said the Brat. "Matt, why didn't you tell?

Why didn't you say that this Kind Tree was L?!"

"Names are just names." Said the Tree with a grin.

"I'm the Tree of Kindness in this world we're in.

Now about your friend Near; Matt tells me you're rude

to the small little boy, always ruin his mood.

Look up, Brat, Look up and see.

You have your whole life looked up to me.

And even in the form of a Tree I know that

You'll follow my guidance, Blonde Haired Brat.

So when you wake up I want to go

into the room of Near your old foe

and give him a hug and apologize

for your history of bringing tears to his eyes."

The Blonde Haired Brat wasn't pleased

He didn't want to listen to a tree.

But L was his boss, even in this

So he stomped his foot and he clenched his fist

and said "Fine…" with defeat that wasn't missed.

Then the Tree of Kindness waved his hand goodbye

Reminding the Brat to give kindness a try.

Mello woke up in his bed, the light from a bedside lamp blinding him. The main light was shut off. Apparently it was nighttime in England. Matt loomed over him like a bug, peering through his goggles at Mello's face.

"You're up." He said softly.

"I…yes. I am." Mello sputtered. His voice was cracking and his throat hurt. He tried to sit up in the bed but the movement sent his mind reeling.

"Easy dude." his roommate cautioned. "You've been out for hours. You're gonna get dizzy."

"Already there." Mello groaned, laying back on the pillows.

"Roger told me to watch you to make sure you didn't catch fever again."

"You've been here this entire time?" Mello asked incredulously. He knew he talked in his sleep.

Matt smiled deviously. "Yes I have, Blonde Haired Brat."

Mello frowned before sickness took over him and he closed his eyes again, falling back to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**That was freaking hard to write. I read SO many Dr. Seuss books to get the alliterations and whatnot right. And all the rhymes…the hideous rhymes… **

**Please. **

**Review.**

**Make all of this suffering over this chapter worth it. **

**Let me know what you thought? Haha. **


	2. The Adventures of Dick Manley: Manly Man

**Author's Note: Before I start this, I need to make one thing clear: From this moment on, all of this is satire. It's sarcasm, hyperbole and jest. DO NOT TAKE ANY OF IT SERIOUSLY. **

**In a sense, don't be offended. I'm not reflecting my own opinions in this fic, and I'm sure as hell not reflecting the opinions of the people that made Death Note. If you can't take tongue-in-cheek comments about racism, sexism, homophobia and the like, just don't read it. I have a particularly dark humor, and these are all jokes. **

**But if you can take a joke, then I present **

**DICK MANLEY: MANLY MAN. **

**..ahem…**

**BOYS! Are you tired of having less chest hair than your girlfriends? With all this talk of 'seatbelts' and 'safety,' don't you wish there was something MANLY for you to do, to kick-start the testosterone* in your pants? Well, look no more! **

**Cockrocket Publishing is proud to introduce DICK MANLEY, the 1940s adventure man with more masculinity than a handgun drenched in jet fuel. Follow Dick's adventures throughout the world as he battles the worst and manliest beasts the world, and especially Germany, has to offer! **

**Read on to see how a normal boy just like you reacts when he's violently thrust into the world of DICK MANLEY: MANLY MAN.**

**(*results not typical)**

* * *

When Mello regained consciousness, he found himself under a table. The sounds of a lively bar assaulted his ears, as men of all nationalities laughed and drank to the sound of a folky Irish band. The band even had banjoes, the manliest of folk instruments. Mello took a moment to catch a grip on his bearings before crawling out from beneath the table, deftly dodging the tobacco spit from one of the men playing Whiskey Poker above him. Whiskey Poker is just like regular poker, except instead of wagering money you wager how many drinks you'll have to shoot down if your hand is beaten. The men above him were so manly that they'd been playing for hours and not one of them was drunk.

Mello was so entranced at the sheer display of manliness before him that he accidentally bumped into a serving woman, prompting her voluptuous corset pups to almost fall out. She hastily fixed herself before returning to her duty of delivering more beer to a table in the corner where six or so men were laughing uproariously to another man's story. Mello hadn't yet apologized for bumping the broad, as is the gentlemanly custom, and followed her to a corner. Mello knew that, no matter how tough a man is, he always apologizes for abusing the weaker sex.

The men at the table were so drunk that they weren't even bothered by the fact that Molly the barmaid had been out of the kitchen for more than 5 minutes. After they had been served, Mello quickly apologized to Molly before she slipped back into her domain. He started to leave the table full of lumberjacks and rugged sailors to their own peace, but a man, the same man who had been telling such an interesting tale before Molly had disrupted them, stopped him.

"Well now," The man said, his words not even remotely slurred from the near-lethal amounts of alcohol in his system. "Young man, I don't believe I've made yer acquaintance!"

"Uh..I'm Mello." Mello said. "I have no idea where I am..or why everything I do is narrated by the voice of a Texan man."

"Hoho! If ya can't remember, yer obviously here for the right reasons." He grinned to his friends at the table, who laughed and agreed with him. "Name's Richard Manley, boy. Ya wanna join us for the rest of the night? I can't think of no better way to spend the night than with a lot of burly, drunken men.""

Mello couldn't resist a man whose last name was literally Manley. "Umm..sure Richard."

"Call me Dick!" Dick Manley practically yelled. "All my friends call me Dick."

"Sure thing. You mind telling me where I am? And what year it is?" Mello asked. Everyone at the table was so gleefully gay that every word from their mouths sounded like excited declarations.

"Now, where was I in the story?" Dick Manley asked the group. "Oh yeah! Anyway, she said 'No! That hole's not big enough for two!' But enough about my conception…"

His story was interrupted by a rumble that had sparked up in the middle of the bar. Two towering men were fighting over Molly the barmaid, who had fled to the kitchen again for safety. "Help me Dick Manley!" She called from behind the kitchen door. "Make them stop fighting over me- everyone knows you'd have to be a lot manlier than these two to get my love!"

"She's right!" Dick said as he stood. "A lady as unsightly and rugged as Molly could only be satisfied by a man as Manly as me!" He turned to the scuffling men and cracked his knuckles. "Hey fellas!" He called. "I'm askin' ya all one time to stop this fighting over Miss Molly or I'll stop ya myself."

"I'll have Miss Molly if I have to fight a grizzly bear with nothing but my fists and a bottle of bourbon!" Yelled one of the skirmishing men.

"Don't be daft, that's the only way to fight a grizzly bear." Said Dick Manley. "Besides, ya done spooked Molly all the way back to her kitchen with all yer fightin'."

"She'll come around when she sees how badly I put this chump down with my fists." Said the other man as blood began to drip from his nose in a manly fashion that seemed to make his handsome face look even tougher.

"They ain't listenin', Dick." Said Dick's pal Magnus Fightmaster, a German man who had to daily proclaim his love for America to assuage Dick's fists' natural instinct to beat anything with the scent of Nazi.

"Only one way to solve this." Dick said as he waded his way through the crowd and took grip of the battling behemoths. "You fellas sure are big. But my fists are bigger!" He shouted as he sent massive fists into the faces of the men. After just two swings of Dick Manley's testosterone-pumped hammerfists, the fight over Molly's affections was over and won by none other than Dick Manley.

"You did it!" Molly the barmaid squealed as she rushed over to hug Dick. His chest was so broad and toned that she could only drape herself over him rather than wrap her arms around his impressive body. "Dick Manley, you're the toughest, most MANLY MAN I've ever met. It would be an honor to have your manly babies."

"Of course it would!" Dick exclaimed as the other two men raised themselves off the floor, dignity intact. "And when I make ya my wife, it won't just be an honor- it will be yer duty! But for now, you'd better be off to yer kitchen before ya cause another incident."

Molly nodded her head. "You always did tell me that the only way for a woman to stay out of trouble is for her to stay in the kitchen and keep the food hot and the dishes done." She said before returning to the kitchen for the rest of the night. Mello couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Dick Manley had just solved a fist fight _with his fists._

"This is a little ridiculous…" He muttered to himself as Dick Manley grabbed a nearby mug of beer and swallowed its contents in one manly gulp.

"Ridiculous?!" Dick Manley shouted. "No, boy, ridiculous was the time I was being hunted by a pack of feral Indians at the bottom of the Grand Canyon!"

"Native Americans…" Mello mumbled to himself. No one knew why he would even risk correcting the powerful words of Dick Manley, because everyone knows that those words were connected to a pair of even more powerful fists.

"Silly Indians thought their pathetic little arrows would stop my fists from delivering swift, American justice to their savage faces."

For some unfathomable reason, Mello stopped listening to Dick Manley's recounting of when he faced off against the Indians.

"And when I took their unconscious bodies back to their tribe grounds, they were so impressed by my fists that they made me their chief!" 'Chief Bison Punch' Dick Manley said as he finished his harrowing story of danger and fists.

Just as Mello was going to sit in a darker part of the bar to be by himself and think of feminine things whilst simultaneously rolling his eyes at that last comment, a small man from the Orient burst in and started shouting in some Asian language.

"Easy there, Shortround." Dick Manley said. The other men's attention was turned to the small Japanese man's babblings. "Any of you boys speak Korean?" Dick asked the crowd, suspicion in his eyes. None of them did, because none of them were communists.

The Chinese man kept his incoherent ramblings up until Mello, apparently some kind of science-y nerd who spoke Taiwanese offered to translate. Dick Manley grabbed Mello by the collar and lifted him nearly 5 feet off the floor.

"Ya speak Asian, pinko?" Dick Manley said, his fists clenched and ready to punch some commies.

"I speak Japanese, actually." Mello said, clearing his throat. "That man is from Japan, and from the sound of things he's in some pretty bad trouble."

"Where'd ya learn to speak commie at?"

"I go to a private school." Mello choked out, the words catching in his throat because Dick Manley's massive fists were cutting them off.

"So yer one of them schooly geeks, eh?"

"Uh…sure. Why not. I'm a geek.."

"Hmm." Dick Manley set the geek down, but his fists still had a thirst for commie pain. He sent a quick uppercut to the Vietnamese scum cowering behind Mello.

"Now then." Dick Manley said after all the other bar-goers had applauded his heroism and Molly had fainted in the kitchen. "What's this commie think is important enough to interrupt our drinking?"

Mello spoke to the man in his native language of tyranny and anti-Americanism for a moment. Dick had to restrain his fists at the sound of it all.

"He says that some men in army suits kidnapped his wife and daughter and he wants to know if the famed Dick Manley would help him rescue them." Mello said.

"Of course he wants Dick Manley's help!" Dick Manley said. "No one on planet Earth's as good at rescuing dames as Dick Manley!"

"So you'll help him?" Mello asked.

"Why the hell not? But yer coming with me!" Dick Manley said to Mello. "I don't speak Asian. You'll need to beat every detail you can get out of this man. Are ya man enough to do that?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I can find out a lot without hitting him. Is there anything you do that you don't try to do first with your fists?"

"What would that accomplish?!" Dick Manley asked, surprised at the boy's complete lack of good sense. "Now come on, boy. Let's go rescue some Orientals."

The Asian, who called himself Mr. Yagami, explained to Mello that he and his family had been abducted and flown to a deserted island off the coast of Africa. He'd escaped a month ago and had fought his way back to America to find help. So Dick Manley called Ace Gunner, a pilot friend of his, to fly them as far as the mainland of Africa.

Mello had never been in a fighter jet before, but the second he sat down he felt his boy parts grow immensely. He was becoming a man, right there on that god damn plane. He looked around in embarrassment at having such an intimate detail broadcast through the story's narrative, but Dick and Ace were already sporting plane-boners of their own. It was only natural to be aroused when you're in something as kick-ass as a jet.

"By the way," Mello asked after regaining his confidence. "How did you get the army to authorize you using their fighter jet?"

"Army?" Ace Gunner asked incredulously. "No, boy, you're mistaken. This is my personal jet. The army jet's in the shop. Got gunned down by some Russians last week."

"You have a personal jet?" Mello asked. He was surprised for some reason.

"Of course!" Ace laughed.

"Wait a second." Mello said. "Aren't you supposed to by _flying_ the jet?!"

Ace and Dick exchanged a thoughtful look before the jet began to nosedive.

"There's no time to waste!" Ace Gunner said after a quick observation from the cockpit. "We'll need to jump if we're going to survive." Dick Manley tossed a single parachute to Mello.

"You and the Oriental tie yourselves up with this."

"What about you two?" Mello asked, as Ace raised the door up.

"Parachutes are for women and gays!" Ace said before jumping headfirst out of the jet.

"There's no way I'm jumping out of this." Mello said. Mr. Yagami said something along the same lines, but Dick Manley quickly strapped them both in the parachute and dragged them over to the edge.

"Come on now, boys!" He called as he jumped, pulling them out with him. "Americaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Mello pulled the chute almost immediately, and watched as Dick Manley free fell until he caught up with Ace Gunner in the air. Together they tucked and rolled, landing on a beach as Mello and Mr. Yagami floated down daintily. If women ever left the kitchen enough to skydive, it'd still be more impressive than the way Mello and the Asian were drifting down. The jet landed some 400 feet away from them on the beach and promptly exploded. Dick quickly checked to see if Mello was experience some manliness, but the boy was still recovering from the shock of the jump.

After successfully surviving the plane crash, the group gathered together to set out for the second part of their quest.

"The good news is that we're in Africa." Ace Gunner said. "The bad news is this is Crocodile Beach."

"How can you tell that without any..Holy shit, did you say Crocodile Beach?" Mello asked.

"Yes sir, this is the one and only crocodile watering hole for about 300 miles." Ace said. Dick eyed the tree line for crocodiles, which had yet to appear.

"Of-fucking-course it is." Mello said. He was beyond annoyed at the way today was going, but before he could voice this ridiculous opinion, he and the rest of the men were surrounded by 50 giant, man-eating crocodiles.

"'Bout time you ladies showed up!" Dick Manley said, rolling up his shirt sleeves. Ace Gunner cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck, ready to put the beat down on the giant beasts. Mr. Yagami, who was still strapped to Mello's back in the harness of the parachute, began to yell in Asian and Mello ran up the beach for high ground.

Safe atop a rocky bluff jutting out over the beach, he watched the powerful scene below play out before him. Two enormous crocodiles rose up on their back legs, attempting to use their massive weight to knock Dick Manley over. But their crocodile mouths were met with Dick's famous fists, and two by two the beasts fell unconscious to the sand. Another crocodile swung his gargantuan tail at Ace Gunner, who jumped over it and landed on the body of the croc. He wrestled with it for a moment before finally choking the beast out. He sent another crocodile reeling into the flames of the plane wreckage, catching it aflame.

The fire quickly spread to the other crocs, and suddenly Dick and Ace found themselves battling something even tougher and manlier than regular giant crocodiles: giant _flaming_ crocodiles.

"Haha!" Dick Manley called to Ace Gunner. "Boy, Ace, I ain't seen this many flaming lizards since that time we went to the wrong New Year's party!"

Ace Gunner chuckled as he launched his fist into another crocodile. "I still don't know how we ended up in California!" He yelled back. "By the way, Percy says you still owe him $50."

"You tell-" Dick grunted as he grabbed the croc he was fighting by both jaws and ripped his mouth open. "You tell _Percy_ that he should be lucky I didn't repay that favor with my fists!"

"To be fair, he looked better than most women, Dick." Ace said between punches.

"Felt better than most women too." Dick said. "But that's beside the point."

All of the crocodiles were now defeated, so Dick and Ace climbed the hill to get Mello and Mr. Yagami. They walked in the jungles of Africa for three days, stopping only when Dick needed to take a manly piss or the weaker two needed to rest. Finally, the group found the camp where Mr. Yagami's wife and daughter were imprisoned.

"Well, we're here." Mello said after conferring with Mr. Yagami. "I don't suppose you guys have a plan to get around all those men with machine guns?"

"Who needs a plan when you have fists?" Dick Manley asked rather loudly before charging out of the brush and into the middle of a group of foreign men, each armed to the teeth. Ace Gunner followed him, leaving Mello and Mr. Yagami to watch from the safety of the bushes. Gunfire rang out into the jungle, but Dick's fists were so beefy that bullets seemed to bounce right off of them.

"Sie tatsächlich diese übersetzt?" One of the foreign men called, waving a gun over his head. "Ich hoffe, es macht Sinn!"

"Nazis!" Dick yelled as he smashed the German scum in the face.

"Not just any Nazis…" Ace shouted. "Genetically enhanced Nazis! Look at the size of their arms!"

Dick Manley paused his fury of punches to study the new information Ace had given him. It was true. The Nazis were in fact enhanced, no doubt through some Satanic Mengele-style operation that had granted all of their adversaries almost super abilities. But not super enough for Dick Manley's fists.

"Fürchtet mich! Ich bin das Schaf König!" Shouted the Nazi in Ace Gunner's choke hold. "Meine Schafe hören meine zornige Schreie und komme mir zu Hilfe!"

"I don't think these men speak English!" Dick called out over the commotion. "Mello! Chinaman! Go around the battle and find the women!"

Mello nodded and explained to Mr. Yagami the plan, then carefully left the bushes. They walked briskly around the rumble just as Ace Gunner helped Dick Manley chokeslam another pitiful excuse for Aryan superiority.

"Wenn ich drei Bären und haben die Uhr liest eine Viertelstunde nach Mitternacht, nicht wie viele Pfunde der Hahn wiegen?"

"SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH!" Dick yelled as he snapped another Nazi neck. Meanwhile, Mello and Mr. Yagami were searching the encampment for any sign of Mr. Yagami's family. Finally they found them, locked in a pen with hundreds of sheep. They opened the gate and the sheep flooded out, charging down the path Mello had just walked.

"Guess they got tired of being locked up." Mello said as Mr. Yagami embraced his family. Dick Manley and Ace Gunner walked around the sheep and joined them, the blood and tears of their Nazi enemies staining their clothes. Mrs. Yagami ran to hug Dick, thanking him for saving him.

"Hoho!" Dick Manley chuckled. "Not so close, Mrs. Orient. If ya aren't careful you'll unleash _my _New Year Dragon, if ya get what I'm saying."

Ace chuckled as Mr. Yagami's daughter embraced him with gratitude too.

"Hey Ace, why don't ya stick around here and build us a fire to attract rescue planes." Dick said. "Now I don't feel right about violating Mrs. Yagami's wedding vows, but I'm going to show his daughter the _proper_ way to thank a gentleman."

"Oh my..are you serious?!" Mello yelled. "This whole day's been nothing but explosions and drinking and fucking _NAZI CROCODILES_. And now, to top it all off, you're going to FUCK MR. YAGAMI'S DAUGHTER?"

"What's he going to do about it?" Dick Manley laughed, a huge, deserving grin plastered on his face.

Dick disappeared into the brush with Ms. Yagami, and Ace began gathering wood for a bonfire. "Now help me build a fire while those two are away." he said, scanning the sky for passing planes. "Hmm…be here at least a night. Maybe I'll have my own swing at the Asian Princess, eh?" He chuckled.

Mello sat down and shook his head. "Do you have any alcohol?"

"I got bourbon!" Ace exclaimed. "Good thinking boy, getting drunk will make building this fire even easier!"

* * *

**Author's note: Will Mello ever make it back home? Will Ace Gunner's bonfire be large enough to attract a rescue plane? IS MR. YAGAMI'S DAUGHTER WOMAN ENOUGH FOR DICK MANLEY?! Tune in next week to find-**

**ah..actually never mind on that. This is the end for Dick Manley. I hope you guys liked him. **

**All of my German comes from Google translate. Don't blame me if you speak the language and it fucked the sentences up too bad. **

**Lastly, don't forget to review! I worked hard on this. Give me some love! And special shout-out to Coconutlove47, the only reader who left a review.**

** For you, I give many cats. You will enjoy cats. Cats are greatest form of gratitude. **

**Review! **


	3. Of Thieves and Wizards

**Author's Note:**

**Some business-**

**As some of you probably already know, I launched a twitter for myself in hopes that my readers would follow me and we could connect more personally. My goal is to build a community where we can all communicate and I can give news much like this to all of you at once, instead of having to answer the numerous PMs I get individually.**

**Seriously, I get a TON of PMs, and most of them are asking the same things. It would be much easier for me to just make one statement on twitter. **

**Plus, I want to do contests and shoutouts for all of you to participate in, as well as share things I think you all would find interesting. **

**However, since launch, I have gained exactly one follower. One. That is singular. I am very, very grateful to the one follower I have. She is awesome, and I love her. That was a little creepier than I anticipated. Sorry. Anyway, you see where this is going. I have great, great ideas for all of us to share. It's like a party, and you're all invited. **

**All you have to do is follow me. **

**Don't have twitter? Why not make an account to follow me? I would. You know, cuz I'm cool. **

** FanFicTrumpee.**

**Here's a(n?) URL:**

** /FanFicTrumpee**

**I hope to see you all there! **

**Oh yeah, here's the story. **

Roger shuffled into the room quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping boy. This was the third case of mononucleosis in the orphanage in three months; if any more kids started coming down with it, he'd have to quarantine them. Furthermore, he wanted to know how the sickness was spreading so rapidly. He shuddered to think all these teenagers were actually swapping bodily fluids commonly enough to mutate and spread a virus as serious as mono.

The kid's roommate looked up to him with a yawn. It was clear Matt hadn't slept for days, but that wasn't unusual for him. It must have been the stress of caring for Mello that had him looking so rough.

"How's he been doing?" He asked, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the boy's particular choice of eyewear. He'd known Matt since the boy was four, and he'd had some variation of orange goggles since the day he'd arrived.

"Oh you know, still unconscious." The kid mumbled. "He says things occasionally though. It's actually pretty funny."

Roger's eyes narrowed. "What kinds of things?"

Matt laughed. "Well, he was speaking in rhymes last night. And this morning he was saying the word 'dick' a lot."

"Well, uh.." Roger coughed. "Is that so. I'm not sure Mello would want you hearing whatever personal thoughts he has. Maybe you should listen to music or something until he wakes up."

"And miss the show?" Matt objected with a smirk. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't heard before. He calls you a dick all the time."

"I…very well." Roger sighed. "Please continue to keep an eye on him."

"You got it, captain." Matt said, leaning back in his chair.

"And Matt, do try to get some sleep some time."

Matt yawned. "Oh I will. In economics class tomorrow." Roger shook his head as he exited the room. Matt popped the tab off another Red Bull and went back to playing his handheld.

Mello woke up in a small stone room. His head was pounding, not unlike it would if he had slept on a rock floor all night. He groaned and squeezed his eyes tight, only vaguely aware of the smell of urine and body odor. The floor was damp and cold; the palms of his hands felt sticky after he touched it. He raised himself up off the floor, trying not to vomit from the combination of dizziness and the smell. A man's silhouette stood unmoving before him, partially concealed by shadow. Mello crawled to the left of what he'd now determined to be a cell, most likely a prison cell, and steadied himself on the crate there.

He turned his head slowly to look at the man, who had still said nothing. Mello knew he was being watched, but he didn't know why and he felt too sick to ask. He turned away from the man and steadied himself again, working to pull himself up to stand. When he finally found the strength, the raised himself about half way before he realized the crate he'd been touching for the past five minutes was in fact the toilet. He shoved himself away from it immediately, falling back to the floor and throwing up until his throat hurt. He was miserable and confused, and infuriated at the man who stood there, offering no explanation or assistance. He stayed down until the sickness passed, then crawled to the corner to sit. He was content to sit in silence if it meant not getting sick again. He glared at the man watching him and laid his head back against the hard rock wall.

He stayed like that for a long time, drifting in and out of consciousness, until he heard a commotion outside his cell. Loud, crashing footsteps were echoing through the halls. They stopped at Mello's cell, and Mello struggled to see the figure of the visitor.

"I've been given orders from my most exalted Lord to buy this man's freedom!" The man exclaimed. The volume of his voice made Mello's head hurt, but his heart leaped at the sound of jingling keys.

The bars on the cell creaked as they swung open. A shorter man practically flew into the room and threw himself before Mello, a huge smile lighting up his face.

"Melloras!" The man exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're still alive!"

"Um, " Mello coughed. His throat still hurt from the bout of vomiting he'd had earlier. "Yes, that's a good thing I'm sure."

The man stood quickly, pulling Mello up by the shoulders. "Well come on, now!" He practically sang. It was obvious to Mello that this man had had a significantly better morning than he had. "We need to get you out of this stinking place."

"Where are we going?" Mello asked. He figured this man was a friend of his, and didn't want to bring up the fact that he didn't know his name just yet.

"That's a good question! No doubt we can't go back to the village; they'll skin you alive if you even get close to the gates. No, we're going somewhere much, much more lavish and comfortable- the palace of King Lerias himself!" He looked back as he dragged Mello out of the cell, eyeing the two men in shining, metal armor. Mello suddenly realized what time period he was in, and groaned. "You see," the man said, letting his arm go and slowing his pace so Mello could keep up easier. His voice had dropped to a whisper as they walked down the hall and away from the misery Mello had been in just moments earlier. "your good pal Mattion here has convinced the King to free you so we can go on a royal quest." Mattion's face exploded in a prideful smile.

"A..quest?" Mello asked. It was slowly becoming easier for him to walk, and he could stand up straight now.

Mattion threw his arms up in surrender. "I know what you're going to say- we're not exactly the strongest supporters of Lerias' actions. But I needed a way to get you out of there. So I convinced the King we were the last remaining members of a monastery from the North, well trained in self-defense and stealth, fully devoted to serving our God and our king- and just like that I get escorted by an actual knight to come spring your drunken arse out of here!"

"Did it occur to you, erm, Matt..tion.. that if the King hired us because of our supposed skill, then maybe we might actually _need to have that certain skill?_"

Mattion's head cocked to the side in contemplation. "That..didn't cross my mind at all, actually. Relax, coz. It's just a rescue mission- how hard can it be?"

"That depends. Who are we rescuing?"

"Ah! That's the best part! Kind King Lerias has promised a reward of an earldom in the southern colonies, complete with a hundred horses and 50 knights- just for whatever lucky bastard can bring Princess Ansette back to him unharmed."

"We're rescuing a princess?"

"Now you're feeling it!" Mattion smiled again. It was like the man was addicted to showing other people his teeth. "Now come on, we need to get some horses."

Outside the prison was just as damp, but the moisture hang in the air instead of puddled under one's feet. Mello looked around, figuring he was somewhere around England, or maybe France. It had to be during the feudal ages, what with the mention of kings and the presence of knights. Out in the sunlight, which was dimmed significantly by the cloud cover, Mello could see what he was wearing. It looked like sack cloth, like what you'd keep potatoes in. Matt, or Mattion as he was apparently called, was dressed in a brightly colored tunic, red and dark green. The front of it showed signs of wear, however, so Mello knew it had to be one Matt wore regularly. The state of their apparel told him they were far from the wealthy, pious monks Matt had proclaimed them to be. So how were they going to get horses?

They were going to steal them. At least, that's what it looked like was happening, as Matt grabbed the reigns of two jet black mares from a stable boy and took off running, calling out a nonchalant "Sorry bloke, King's business!" over his shoulder before running up the hill to where Mello was waiting. He paused just long enough to mount his own ride and for Mello to do the same before charging off again, parting the crowds of peasants as he hooted and laughed like a child. Mello focused on keeping up with the mounted madman, learning very quickly how to ride a horse.

There was some commotion behind them as the stable hand and a few guards chased after the stolen horses, but they quickly outran them. It wasn't long before Mello saw the gate of the city; a massive wooden drawbridge stretched over a twenty-foot wide moat, connecting the city to the land outside only briefly before closing up again. Mello looked over his shoulder- there were still guards following them, however their pace had slowed as if they were rapidly giving up on their chase.

Ahead of Matt, the drawbridge was lowering. It was operated by a pulley system, powered by massive Clydesdale horses that pulled against weights to lift it. But they weren't moving fast enough for Matt's tastes, because he leapt off his horse quickly and charged over towards one, offering it sugar before swatting it suddenly on the behind. He looked at the other horse, which promptly began pulling harder as well, opting against a swift tap from Matt's palm. With the drawbridge now almost halfway down, Matt mounted his horse and called out "Now we got it Mels!" He dug his heels into his horse, breaking into an immediate gallop and charging past the guards at the gate. Mello watched dumbfounded as Matt's horse ramped up the bridge and seemed to fly over the gap, landing safely on the other side with a graceful thud.

His own horse looked back at him, as if begging him to wait for the bridge to lower fully. Mello didn't even consider going until the bridge was at a safer, saner level. He trotted cautiously over the soggy wooden planks of the bridge and waved to the guards, who raised it back up again.

"It's about time you showed up." Matt teased with a smirk. "Richard and I were getting bored here, waiting for you."

"Richard?" Mello asked.

"The horse." Matt stated as he rifled through his pocket. "Her name is Richard."

"I see."

Matt handed him a crumpled piece of parchment, stained brown with what Mello hoped was gravy. "What's this?" He asked, unfolding.

"It's a map wot the King gave me. They think the Princess is somewhere in that mountain range riiiiight-" He guided Richard to stand beside Mello's unnamed horse and pointed towards the left corner of the map. "There."

"How far away is that?" Mello asked. He wasn't feeling up for a quest, honestly.

"I asked the scribe in the library of the palace the same thing. He estimated two days, maybe three."

Mello frowned. "Alright, hold it."

Matt's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What is it?"

"If this Princess is only three days away, why haven't any of the King's knights- you know, the real ones, with armor and swords and all that- gone off to save her? Why are we the only ones who volunteered if the reward's so great?"

"Good question." Matt said, patting Mello on the back with a gloved hand. "Rumors say that the Princess is in an enchanted tomb, deep in the heart of the tallest mountain. That there's an old, crooked wizard up there who'd been watching Lady Ansette from the day she was born; and now that she's of age, he's taken her for his own perverted pleasures."

"That's disgusting." Mello said.

"That it is. But the talk of wizards has everyone so frightened, they're afraid to even go hunting near the mountains- much less charge up there with the intent to rescue her."

"Okay, that makes sense." Mello muttered. "So tell me, Mattion, why exactly aren't we afraid to rescue her?"

Matt thought that over for a moment. "Hmm….because the end outweighs any danger? Relax Mels; it's just some nasty old man up there, probably too busy wanking it to notice if anyone pays his Princess a visit."

"So what's our plan?" They'd begun riding in the direction of the mountains, staying close enough to each other to speak.

"Well, I figured you could charge in there, create a distraction, you know? Then I'll sneak in behind whoever comes to greet you and snatch the Princess, we both run out, hop on Richard and Elmire, and take off for the palace."

"I take it Elmire is my horse's name?"

Matt nodded. "Richard just told me."

"I'm sure." Mello shook his head. Matt smiled again, the big, toothy grin that Mello had become used to.

They rode for the rest of the day, and camped at night. Matt's horse was the only one with a pack, and it was noticeably short on supplies. They ended up crafting a tent from a huge sheet of folded canvas stretched over a fallen tree. They ate bread and dried fruit, then slept. The next morning, they set off again and rode until they reached the base of the mountain. The days seemed to mesh together for Mello, as if he were standing outside of himself and watching a montage of two people camping. They camped there that night, and the next day, Mello found himself on a horse, tilted sideways, halfway up a mountain.

"Just a few hundred more feet!" Matt called down to him. He was a good distance higher than Mello was. "I think I can see the peak!"

"My horse is getting tired!" Mello yelled. It was true, he was having trouble convincing his mount to move any higher.

"Elmire!" Matt called back.

Mello's horse whinnied up to him. Mello rolled his eyes.

"I know you're tired girl!" Matt yelled. "But we're almost there!" Elmire whinnied again, and began climbing the mountain.

"Where did you learn to speak horse?" Mello asked when he'd caught up with Matt.

Matt's lips pursed. "You know? I'm not really sure. Just comes naturally I guess."

"I'm sure it's entirely natural." Mello laughed sarcastically. They'd slowed their pace earlier; it was harder to breath at this elevation and they didn't want the horses to have any difficulties. Ahead of them was a path that seemed to circle around the top of the mountain, so they moved from the rocky bluffs of the mountainside to walk there. They followed the path for a few minutes, snaking around the peak of the mountain until the trail spilled out into a clearing.

"Look there." Matt said, dismounting Richard. He left her near the opening of the trail, motioning for Mello to do the same. "Looks like a cave, eh?"

Mello looked into the mouth of the opening. "I'd say so." Matt helped him down from Elmire. "If they're on this mountain, they've got to be in there."

Matt nodded in agreement. "Alright. So here's the plan: We're going to go in at the same time, but you're going to announce your presence while I hide. Then you keep whoever comes to meet you distracted while I grab Lady Ansette and make a break for it. Finish your business with the wizard and then come down when I give the signal that I've made a clean break."

"I see a number of problems with that plan, Mattion."

Matt's brows furrowed in confusion. "Really? Where?"

"For starters, what am I supposed to say to the wizard to make him talk to me?"

Matt laughed. "Mels, we're monks, remember? And if there's anything monks do, it's try to convert people to their faith. Just talk about Ryca or Livdagith to him for, like, twenty minutes or so, and you should be fine."

"Ryca and Livda..gith…those would be our gods, correct?"

"Look Mels, I don't pay attention in church either, but at least I know the gist of things."

"Well then you pretend to be the monk!" Mello protested.

Matt tapped his chest. "Monks don't wear tunics, coz. You're the one in prison sack, you're the monk."

"Ugh..alright." Mello sighed. "What's the signal?"

"It needs to be inconspicuous…." Matt said, thinking. "I got it! I'll blow this!"

"Where'd you get that?" Mello asked, as Matt produced a shiny, curved horn from his trouser pocket.

"I don't know. Just realized I had it."

"Hmm."

"That's somewhat odd, don't you think?" Matt asked. "That I can just conjure what I need to solve a problem? Almost like magic, or a dream or something."

"Let's just focus on what we're doing, okay?" Mello said. He wasn't ready to go into that cave, but he knew that putting it off would just prolong the dread. Might as well get it over with. "Let's go."

Matt followed him into the mouth of the cave, then quickly sank into the shadows on the side. Mello walked forward into the darkness until he saw the light of a torch some feet ahead of him. Following the light, he lost track of Matt and made his way down the lighted path alone.

"WHO GOES THERE?!" A deep voice boomed. "WHO DARES ENTER THE DOMAIN OF BOGUUN, SON OF RONGUUN, MASTER OF THE ELEMENTS?"

"Uhmm…" Mello stuttered. "I am, erm, Melloras, of the church of…umm…religion."

"MELLORAS OF THE CHURCH! WHY DO YOU INTRUDE UPON MY PEACEFUL EVENING?!"

"Actually, I'd, uh, like to talk to you."

"SPEAK THEN."

Mello's heart dropped. He was nervous, but he knew Matt was counting on him. "Would you mind presenting yourself, sir? Matters of the Church of Religion are..better…dealt with in person. Face to face. For honesty, you know."

"WHAT BUSINESS DOES THE CHURCH OF RELIGION HAVE WITH BOGUUN?!"

Mello thought for a moment. This was harder than he'd anticipated, making things up on the fly. He hoped to hear Matt's horn soon. "We have… been praying for you, Boguun." he stammered. "And we have received..uh…a message! Yes, a message from a god. Concerning you!"

"DOES THIS MESSAGE BID ILL FOR BOGUUN?"

"Oh, noooo. Nonononono." Mello reassured. "This message is good! It's filled with, um, blessings. Blessings for you, Boguun. But I have to anoint you with the oil for you to receive these blessings, so you'll need to come stand before me."

"BOGUUN HAS NO NEED FOR FICKLE GODS! BOGUUN IS MASTER OF THE ELEMENTS!"

"T-that's the best part, Boguun!" Mello said. "The glorious lord of magic, ehhh, Criss the Angel, has chosen you to be his chief wizard. He's given you the blessing of…. the blessing of…omnipotence."

"BOGUUN HAS BEEN CHOSEN?!" The voice sounded elated. "STAND STILL, MONK. BOGUUN WILL APPEAR."

"I'm not going anywhere." Mello said.

"WATCH, POWERLESS MELLORAS OF THE CHURCH OF RELIGION, AS THE POWERFUL AND MYSTICAL BOGUUN BENDS THE WORLD TO HIS WILL!"

A puff of white smoke, which stank of sulfur, materialized suddenly before Mello, and when it cleared a man stood before him. A small man. A boy, from the look of it, no more than 19 or 20. Mello was immediately less intimated.

"Umm, Boguun?" He asked.

"THUS AM I!" Boguun shouted.

"You can really stop doing that any time you want." Mello said.

"STOP WHAT?"

"Never mind. Anyway, back to the church and the blessing and all that."

"YES! CEASE WASTING MY TIME WITH RIDDLES AND CONFUSION, MELLORAS! BESTOW UNTO ME THE BLESSINGS OF CRISS, THE GLORIOUS ANGEL!"

"Right, Criss the Angel, god of Magic." Mello mumbled. He dug into his pocket until he found his water skin. "So this, Boguun, is the sacred..liquid. Given to me by Criss the Angel himself, so that I might pour out his blessings on you."

"BOGUUN IS EXCITED!" Boguun said. Mello was surprised and a little annoyed that such a loud, deep voice could come from such a small youth. "POUR THE SACRED LIQUID ON BOGUUN!"

"Right, I'll just get on that." Mello said.

"Boguun!" A woman's voice called out suddenly, startling Mello.

"ANSETTE!" Boguun spun around instantly.

A woman, the princess Mello assumed, came running from the back of the cave. Matt was right behind her, calling to her to stop running.

"Boguun!" She said again, stopping before him and throwing herself into the small wizard's arms. "These men were sent by my father to return me."

Boguun's head snapped to Mello, who was still holding the sacred liquid. "YOU HAVE DECIEVED BOGUUN?!"

"Wait a second." Mello said. He looked to the princess. "You're here willingly?"

She looked down. "It is shameful, I know. But I love Boguun. And my father….my father was going to marry me to a prince from the westlands, sending me away to live there; and separating me forever from my precious Boguun."

Matt finally reached their group, panting for air. "So..so you ran away to the mountains. To live with him."

"I could not bear being apart from him." The princess sobbed.

"Melloras," Matt said. "Could I have a word with you for a moment?"

They walked deeper into the cave, so they could speak privately.

"I want that damned reward, Melloras." Matt said. "Love story or not, she's leaving."

"It doesn't seem right." Mello said.

"Since when do you have a conscience?" Matt asked, surprised.

"She's sacrificed her entire life of luxury to live with him here, in this nasty cave. What gives us, the pathetic, jail-rotted criminals, the right to force a princess into anything?"

Matt pouted. "I want a better life, Mels. Away from the jail and the crime. We can have that if we bring her back."

"Let's just talk to them about it, maybe find a solution?"

Matt shrugged. "I guess it can't hurt. But there's only way I'm leaving this mountain, Melloras, and that's with the princess, headed for a life of luxury."

Mello nodded, saying nothing.

"BOGUUN HAS A SOLUTION!" Boguun proclaimed after they'd explained their side of the predicament to him and the princess.

"Let's hear it." Matt said.

Boguun mumbled something under his breath and touched his palm to Ansette's forehead, pulling back slowly. In the space between her face and his palm, a thin whisp of pinkish fog stretched. Boguun snapped his hand to the air beside him, and an exact copy of Princess Ansette materialized before them.

"That was awesome." Matt said, his mouth gaping open.

"TAKE THIS TO THE KING." Boguun said. "COLLECT YOUR REWARD AND NEVER BOTHER BOGUUN AGAIN."

"Will this fool him?" Mello asked. "I mean, can she talk and all that?"

"BOGUUN HAS GIVEN HER ALL OF ANSETTE'S BEAUTY AND MEMORIES. EXCEPT THE LOVE THAT SHE HAS FOR ME- THAT I HAVE RESTRAINED, SO THAT THIS ONE WILL NOT WASTE AWAY IN MOURNING FOR HER LOVE OF ME. TAKE HER AND GO."

Mello looked at Matt, whose face exploded into another smile.

"Works for me." He said, grabbing the second princess' hand and leading her out of the cave.

150 years later, a tired man sat before a fire, his children at his feet.

"And the Princess and the Wizard lived out the rest of their lives in that mountain cave, and had many children and were happy forever. All because two lying, thieving criminals had a change of heart and let them have their love."

"What happened to the thieves, daddy?" His daughter asked with a yawn.

"They lived like royalty, enjoying their rewards and hosting balls and feasts every year. Hundreds of knights fought for their causes, and dozens of duchesses competed for their hands in marriage. They had more than they'd ever had, plenty of food and money, and they too were happy forever.

The end."

**Author's note: **

**Well, I hope you liked the story of Melloras and Mattion. I know this took forever to publish, and I really don't have an excuse for that. So I'm sorry I kept you all waiting. ha. **

**Don't forget to review. **

**And follow me on twitter! **


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